


white and blue and golden glow

by InkCaviness



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Dark Magic, Final Haikyuu Quest, M/M, this is really just angst i'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-08 00:50:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5476997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkCaviness/pseuds/InkCaviness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s lying on his back, staring up into the infinite expense of cloudless blue far above and he’s caught in an in between of feeling like he’s floating up into the skies and a heaviness that drags his limbs down until the earth swallows his body whole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	white and blue and golden glow

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry

I.

A blanket of flowers stretches over the hills, soft and pure white. He’s lying on his back, staring up into the infinite expense of cloudless blue far above and he’s caught in an in between of feeling like he’s floating up into the skies and a heaviness that drags his limbs down until the earth swallows his body whole. Exhaustion pulls on his eyelids, softly tries to sing him to sleep, and he almost gives in when suddenly a shadow falls over his face. His eyelids flutter open again. The soothing blue of the sky is gone; instead his eyes fall on a painfully familiar face. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth and he tries to raise his hand but his arm won’t move.

 

“I’m sorry”, his lips move but no sound comes out and he tries again. “I’m sorry.” This time the words come out, barely audible but loud enough in this suffocating silence.

 

He doesn’t get a reply but a pair of broad, calloused hands carefully lifts up his head until he’s half lying in Iwaizumi’s lap. Tooru smiles and the face above him twists as if the other man was in pain. He wants to say more but there’s no breath left in his lungs to apologize and all he can do is smile as his fingertips start to tingle and his legs slowly go numb. This isn’t so bad, Tooru thinks when fingers start carding through his hair and Iwaizumi still cradles him to his chest.

 

“It’s okay”, Tooru croaks out with his last bit of strength. It’s more of a cough than real words and a trickle of something sticky and warm runs from his lips, the metallic taste of blood coating the inside of his mouth. It’s okay, he wants to say again but all he can do is gurgle through the blood that’s slowly filling up his mouth. With each second breathing gets harder and it feels as if he’s trying to gasp for air underwater, suffocating on his own blood.

It’s okay, he wants to say, we both knew it would end like this. This is how demons die, Tooru thinks, slain by knights in shining armour, the heroes of the story. He’s no hero, he never could be. Throughout his entire life that had been the only thing he knew for a fact. From the day on that the curling horns at the sides of his head started to poke through his hair he knew where all of this was leading. He saw it in the way the townspeople looked at him, the way all of his friends turned away except for one. There never was a happy end in sight for him.

 

Warm droplets hit his cheeks and Tooru opens his eyes again in surprise to look up at Iwaizumi. His shoulders are trembling with heaving sobs and tears stream down his face as he hold Tooru in his arms as if his touch alone could keep away death. Tooru always knew it would end like this but he doesn’t want to accept it. He wants to shake off the cold that’s seeping into his bones, he wants to hug Iwaizumi and kiss him again, at least one last time but his vision is starting to go blurry, black dots clouding the edges.

 

I’m sorry, he thinks and when he shuts his eyes he falls into endless darkness.

 

I. 

The horns break through his skin on a sunny Monday morning and it feels as though someone split his skull with an axe and when he runs to his mother, crying, she backs away in fear. At five years age he can’t understand why but he learns that whatever this is it’s enough to make his own mother tremble with panic. He lets his hair grown until the soft locks hide away the unnatural but it doesn’t last long.

 

He’s 15 when they get too big to hide and people in the street start whisper behind their hands. A monster, a freak, a demon. Curled up in a corner of his room he tries to saw off the horns with a butcher knife. Iwaizumi finds him crying and bleeding that day and Tooru expects him to yell, to run away and leave him behind the way everyone else did. Instead Iwaizumi kneels beside him, takes the knife away and holds him in his arms until the tears stop.

 

Two years later he finds out that Iwaizumi’s lips taste like cinnamon in the winter and strawberries in the spring. What follows are the happiest years of his life where they stay close to the forest in a town far away from the city. No one here knows him and he hides the horns and keeps his eyes on the ground lest their red tinge betrays him. He learns about herbs and healing spells and for once he actually believes that everything might be okay.

 

He finds out what ashes and tears taste like when he returns home to their hut standing in flames, smoke curling up into the sky. The town lies in ruins from a war passed through and Tooru leaves with nothing but the clothes on his back and the butcher knife that never leaves his side. He doesn’t know where Iwaizumi but he can’t find any bones in the ruins of their home so all that’s left for him to do is carry on and hope that they’ll find back together.

 

The next time they meet they stand on opposite sides of the battlefield.

 

I.

Hajime sits in a field of white flowers until the sun touches the horizon and dips everything in a soft, orange glow. His weapons are scattered, his clothes torn and a cut runs from the side of his mouth up to his ear but all of that doesn’t matter now. In the end he found Oikawa, too ate, in a pool of his own blood. Victory tastes bitter when you lose the one thing you’ve been fighting for all your life.

 

The sun is setting and the word about the rebels’ victory spreads through the country but Hajime kneels among snow white lilies; in his arms lies to love of his life with skin cold as stone in a December night and a smile on his lips.

 

His face is streaked with tears and his hands are coated in blood that isn’t his own and now that the fight is over he doesn’t quite know what he was even fighting for.

**Author's Note:**

> talk to me on [tumblr](http://inkcaviness.tumblr.com)!


End file.
